#i couldn't stop thinking about this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orangesunsets12 · 1 year

Text

I can't stop thinking about Steve, after learning to paint from Will (Steve literally has no hobbies, why wouldn't Will try to teach him to paint?), soon painting his nightmares, using a paintbrush as therapy. He keeps the paintings to himself, locked in a bedroom in his home that's never used, too ashamed of the art he made, of what nightmares he brought to life, of what they represented, all of the pain, suffering, and death. But he couldn't stop. For some strange reason, painting the demons and ghosts that he faced was so much easier than talking about them.

He painted everything he saw in his nightmares, his brush strokes realistic and so, so impactful. He painted Barb's lifeless eyes, her face pale, staring up at the moon, covered in water from his pool, the water shimmering over her waxy skin; a plate shattered on the ground, dripping with blood, covered in shadow, as if the one who broke the plate was standing right over him, his fist bared; Max hovering over a grave, the dying sun making her figure burn red, her hands lifted in the air, like a puppet on strings, a grey ground below her; bats flying in a tornado of wind, tails lifting up a small figure who's chest and feet were bare, his hands failing around, unable to escape; teeth biting into flesh, the red, oozing blood coating the skin like it was becoming one with it; Eddie's bloodied hands weakly gripping his spear and shield, the red lighting from the Upside Down reflecting in his empty eyes, his lips parted in a scream that was silenced.

Steve covered his paintings with spare bedsheets, hiding them from the sun and the eyes of others. It was something about him that he didn't want to share, that he wasn't ready to show. He knew that everyone would be breathless if they saw them, too shocked to speak, too horrified to breath, too scared to understand. But for Steve, his paintings allowed him to breath once again, to finally be free of the fear he always felt, if only for another night, and he knew that he couldn't stop, at least not until the nightmares were gone.

But the end didn't seem to be in sight, so Steve continued to paint.

#steve harrington #stranger things #this is totally inspired by #Peeta Melark #in the Hunger Games #i couldn't stop thinking about this #i hope that it is okay!#painting #steve harrington needs therapy #art is his therapy #angst I guess?#stranger things fanfic author #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #eddie munson #barb holland #max stranger things

32 notes · View notes

wannabeabogwitch · 1 year

Text

If TWST Characters had a Pokemon team

These are just my personal views. I just feel like they fit well. Characters: Riddle, Trey, Leona, Azul, Jade, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia and Malleus

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/713150392829165568/if-twst-characters-had-pokemon-teams-part-2?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/714218918722535424/if-twst-characters-had-pokemon-part-3?source=share

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/713354988973342721/twisted-wonderland-masterlist?source=share

Riddle -

Roserade

Shaymin

Polteageist

Azumarill

Sirfech'd

Flamigo

Trey -

Daschbun

Alcremie

Arboliva

Appletun

Blissey

Noctowl

Leona -

Pyroar

Solgaleo

Pangoro

Slaking

Corviknight

Krookodile

Azul -

Octillery

Primarina

Empoleon

Toxapex

Mantine

Cetitan

Jade-

Breloom (Self explanatory)

Garganacl (He can use it for salt, that way he doesn't have to buy it to make food and Azul won't have to spend extra money)

Oinkalogne (They can help him scavenge truffles and mushrooms)

Toadscruel (Again, self explanatory. lol)

Toxicroak

Lantern

Kalim -

Togekiss

Yamper

Oshawott (Floyd calls him sea otter and I agree, he's like a cute sea otter, so Oshawott is perfect for his team. lol)

Copperajah

Slowking

Rabsca (It's a Scarab beetle, fitting for the dorm leader of Scarabia)

Jamil -

Seviper

Chatot (He wants a parrot, so this works. lol)

Liepard

Salazzle

Malamar

Sandaconda

Vil -

Mismagius

Florges

Espathra

Milotic

Sneasler

Hatterene

Idia -

Duskull

Porygon2

Togedemaru

Ceruledge

Toxtricity

Meowstic

Malleus -

Garchomp

Dragapult

Dialga

Hydreigon

Noivern

Rayquaza

32 notes · View notes

sibillascribbles08 · 11 months

Text

Wrote some nonsense between Jason and his dad last night. (Well not really nonsense actually, kind of emotional) So here's this for my like four friends who love Mr. Song

But uuuuh CW for some homophobic language (it's all from the past but still)

It’d been sitting in his mind for too long.

His therapist took note of how much he fiddled with his necklace. While part of it was just nerves, Jason often found himself staring at the thing, at the engraving. He thought about the fact his father hung onto it for so long. He thought about what his father said when he gave it to him.

“But then you um… didn’t want to see me.”

Eventually he told his therapist about this, about why it bothered him.

Sure Jason and his father cleared the air when he first moved in. Jason talked about how all his frustration rooted back to the custody case. That none of it had to do with his dad’s sexuality or lifestyle. And his father explained that sure, being out made him happy, but it wasn’t like he didn’t miss Jason that entire time.

But guilt still sat in his chest. Because even if Jason’s rejection had been misinterpreted, it must have still hurt.

“Well,” his therapist said. “You and your father seem to be able to talk about things pretty openly. Why not just ask him?”

She made it sound so simple. But Jason couldn’t argue with that.

So here he was, lingering outside his father’s room, listening to the man hum as he got out of his work clothes for the night.

Jason really shouldn’t stand there in silence. “Good day at work?”

His father squeaked out of surprise. “Jase! Good grief, at least walk in the doorway before scaring me.”

“Only if you have pants on.”

“Yes, yes, I changed my pants ages ago.” His father mumbled something else, but it was far too quiet to hear.

Jason turned and walked into the bedroom. His father tugged on a baggy t-shirt and either attempted to fix his hair or make it messier. Hard to tell.

“Here to talk dinner plans?” Mr. Song took off his glasses and wiped one of the lenses with his shirt. “As I recall this morning we were still torn on what to do with that beef.”

Jason kept his hands in his pockets. “No it’s… not about dinner.”

His father—ever vigilant on Jason’s shifts in moods—froze for a second. Then he put his glasses back on. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Should he ask his dad to sit down? No, that may not even be necessary. “I…” He reached up to grab his pendant. “I wanted to talk about the um… those two years after I didn’t come and visit that week.”

His father stared at him in silence, expression unreadable but eyes wide.

Then he gave a nervous laugh. “What? Talk about what?”

Jason frowned. “Dad, you told me when you gave me this necklace—”

“I told you not to worry about it.” That awkward grin stayed on his face as he walked forward, aiming for the doorway. “It’s the past. Over and done with. I’ve moved on so you should too.”

Jason glared and gave his dad a shove as he tried to walk past.

The man stumbled and bumped into the door. “Ow! Jase, what—”

“How am I supposed to move on?” He snapped. “How can I properly apologize if you don’t explain what I did wrong?”

Mr. Song sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Jason, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It’s not.” He threw his hands up. “I know why you did that now. I made a selfish decision and never apologized for it, so you thought—”

Jason raised his voice. “How could you have apologized for it when I never explained anything?”

“But it makes sense why you thought I didn’t care.”

“I did know you cared.”

His father crossed his arms. “You just thought I didn’t care enough.”

Jason’s shoulders went rigid, and as his vision blurred he wiped away the tears. “Don’t change the subject. That’s not even the point here.”

“Yes it is. Your feelings were justified, so you shouldn’t—”

“Dad. Did I hurt you?”

His father’s arms tightened and he looked away. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jason could argue with that, but it’d be a useless approach. “That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if I hurt you.”

“Jase—”

“Dad, please, be honest with me. Did I hurt you?”

His father met his gaze again, eyes searching his for what felt like eternity.

Finally, he sighed, “Yes.”

Jason’s shoulder dropped. The tension left him, despite the tightness in his chest. He knew that’d be the answer, and yet hearing it still made him want to lean against the bathroom mirror and scream.

His father, still so observant, spoke up again. “Look, as I said, you don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now and we talked about all that so it’s fine—”

“It’s not fine.”

“Jase, we don’t have to talk about this—”

“But I want to talk about it.” He clenched his fists. “Because I told you, I want to apologize. Properly. So… please tell me about it?”

His father sighed and rubbed his temples as he began to pace back and forth. Eventually, he walked over to his bed and sat, hard enough that he bounced against the mattress.

His hands dropped into his lap as he spoke, gaze on the ceiling. “When you first told me you were too busy to visit that week, I just let it roll off my back. I was a bit anxious about it, sure, because, you know, I noticed how the distance between us got worse and worse.”

Jason crossed his arms, trying to ignore the nausea forming in his stomach. It didn’t work. He chose to sit on the floor.

“It was just, you know, haha, okay, the kid is approaching his last year of high school. Must be prepping for college. Has that tech club he’s busy with.” Mr. Song forced a smile. “But then we uh, you know, had that conversation on your birthday.”

Yeah. Jason remembered that. If he’d known then what he knew now he would have jumped at the chance to see his dad that evening. Not like his mom ever threw much of a celebration, and Kendra took the few good feelings he had and ground them into dirt.

And he’d just been feeling so awful, and so alone, and then his dad calls to wish him a happy birthday and Jason had just—

“Birthday was going fine until you called.”

Why had he even said that? Because he kept wondering why the father who seemingly left him for a night on the town kept on checking in? Or was it just for him to feel like he had some kind of power in his life for a measly few seconds because he didn’t have it anywhere else?

That had been it, hadn’t it. He couldn’t hurt his mom, or Kendra, or his step-dad, so he hurt his father instead.

Mr. Song tapped his knees together a few times. “I still don’t know what I said that upset you so much but—”

“You didn’t.” Jason mumbled.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He repeated his father’s words. “I was just having an awful day and I took it out on you.”

“Oh,” his dad’s voice got so quiet. “I see.”

Jason pressed his lips together, forcing back tears. “Dad, I—”

His father held out a hand—signaling him to stop—still not looking at him. “It was… after that conversation that I figured you really must not want anything to do with me anymore.”

Jason wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t.

“And, you know, at the time I figured it was because I was a raging bisexual. I… already had to go through my parents disowning me because of it, and then losing that custody case, and then you—” His voice cracked and he was quick to hide his eyes.

Jason moved to get up, but once again his father signaled him to stop.

The man took a few deep breaths, head tilted back. “And it’s like, well, what do you do?” He gave a hollow laugh and shrugged. “You finally decide to be the person you want to be. You can’t help it if your family hates you for it.”

“Dad—”

“No, no, let me finish. You asked me to tell you about it, so let me finish.”

Jason bit his lip this time.

“Yes, it hurt.” Mr Song’s nails dug into his knees as he continued, staring at his hands all the while. “I was devastated, actually. Like my whole world was falling out from under me again. Like it had when I first lost that court case because I decided to do something for myself for the first time in years. Just because some asshole got it on film, I get told to my face that I’m not suited to be a parent. I’m too much of a degenerate to take care of the thing I love most in this world.”

Jason flinched. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I’m not.” His father finally looked at him, glaring. “Those were things said to me. By your mother, the judge, your mother’s stupid boyfriend, and even my own parents. I just didn’t believe it until I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

A new wave of guilt crashed into him, and so did the nausea. Jason had to actually cover his mouth before he puked on the floor.

“Jase?” His father slid off the bed to kneel in front of him. “Hey? You okay? Sorry I… I’m getting too heated about this.”

Jason shook his head. “No. I asked you to tell me.”

“Sure but… ugh let’s just move on.” Mr. Song rubbed the back of his neck. “My friends and partners kept me afloat at the time. Reminded me that, you know, the most important thing was if you were happy or not. But even then I… I didn’t want to cling to any more hope. That’s when I tossed out everything in the spare room.”

Ah. Jason knew his dad cleaned it out. It was obvious as soon as he arrived here. Somehow he just didn’t think the circumstances were that abysmal. “I guess that also explains why you were so shocked when I asked to come here.”

His dad gave off a nervous laugh. “Aha, yeah.”

“But you still sent me those cards.”

“Well, of course.” Mr. Song’s hand slid from his neck down to his lap. “Even if you didn’t want to see me again, or even hear my voice, I still wanted you to know I was always thinking about you. That I’d always love you, even if you didn’t love me back.”

“I do love you.” Jason sputtered, once again wiping his eyes. “And I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry. I was being such an idiot and—”

“Hey,” his dad gave him a soft smile. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

His own words being repeated back to him at least stopped his crying. “Fine, but I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just told you years ago why I was so upset with you, then maybe we could have—”

“Jase, I told you before. Time wasted is time wasted. Don’t waste more of it.”

Yeah, no kidding. Jason scooted himself forward so he could pull his dad into a tight hug.

His father hugged him back, somehow even tighter. “It did hurt, Jase, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now, and I get to tell you I love you every night and I’m never going to get sick of it. Because I love you.”

“I know, Dad.” Jason took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing. Jason ignored the pain of his glasses digging into his nose, because fixing it would mean letting go and he didn’t want to do that.

His father eventually broke the silence with a hum. “How come our emotional conversations keep ending with us sitting on the floor?”

Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, not all of them.”

“Enough that I can see the pattern. We can’t keep doing this. Don’t you know I’m getting old?”

“You’re not even fifty.”

“Tell that to my knees.”

Jason scoffed. “Pretty sure what happened to your knees is not an age issue.”

There was a pause. Jason leaned back to look at his father who stared at him in surprise.

“Uh, sorry, that was probably—”

His father laughed. “Oh listen to you, you little shit.” He playfully pinched one of Jason’s ears.

Jason swatted his hand away, trying not to laugh. “Dad—”

“I can’t even say you’re wrong. I really do test the endurance of these babies some days when I—”

“I don’t want the details.” He shouted, but kept smiling as he stood. “Good talk, Dad. Conversation over.”

His father shook his head as he smiled. “Sure, sure. New subject then, what are the dinner plans?”

#scribbly fics #yeah idc enough to put it in the tags #the people who want to see this are already following me asldkjf #I couldn't stop thinking about this #Mr. Song seems very confident and he is #but sometimes the words still get to him

17 notes · View notes

iexistinmanyforms-blog · 2 years

Text

"What pops into your mind when you think about The Celestial War?" (Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan)

When Lucifer thinks about the Celestial War, his mind first drifts to his stone-cold defiance in the courtroom of Heaven, where he made it known to everyone that he was willing to fight... to fall—for his pride (and joys).

The battles and the carnage didn't quite stick in his mind, nor did his fall. At least, that's what he tries to tell himself.

But what did stick was the moment he felt his pride break when he had... begged, Diavolo to save Lilith.

"Begged" doesn't quite cut it, actually—Lucifer outright screamed at him to "SAVE HER GODDAMIT", all bloody and broken and desperate and downright hysterical as he cradled his dying sister close to his chest for what would be the last time. Diavolo told him he will obey his wish, but in turn... Lucifer would obey him for the rest of his life.

And then he was, once again, bound to servitude. At least he had a choice this time around.

— — — — — — —

Mammon tries not to think about the Celestial War if he could help it. What good would that even bring him anyway?

He doesn't want to think about the times he spent desperately flying around to see if his brothers and Lilith were still alive.

He doesn't want to think about the dread, the horror, the fear he felt when he looked down at the carnage of the war while his mind had wracked with worry.

He doesn't want to think about his fall—how long it took to reach Hell, how helpless he was in the air with his broken wings, how alone he felt in the presence of the corpses of fallen angels.

He doesn't want to remember Beelzebub's cries or the look on Belphegor's when Lucifer told them that Lilith didn't survive—

— — — — — — —

The Celestial War itself wasn't too much of a big deal to Leviathan compared to the aftermath of it, where he'd woken up at the bottom of an ocean to find himself lost, alone, and a monster, not knowing if his brothers or Lilith lived through their fall.

He struggled to survive at first, because he woke up thinking he was still Leviathan the Virtue of Kindness, instead of Leviathan the Avatar of Envy. Eventually, though, the ocean had beat the kindness out of him, and taught him how to be a proper demon.

When his brothers found him centuries later, he struggled to be around their presence without feeling threatened by them, and then envious of their lives.

The stark comparison to their lives and his was very apparent, and for a while he struggled to fit in Devildom's hierarchy without falling back to the same mindset that helped him thrive (yes, thrive) in the "Ocean of Nightmares."

He grieved Lilith a little too late, but his brothers never judged him for it.

#obey me #obey me headcanon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #i couldn't stop thinking about this #just a personal headcanons of mine #i might make some for the rest of the boyos #who knows #angst

57 notes · View notes